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Thursday, April 21, 2016

Flash Fiction Friday, Week 34: First, Do No Harm...

The prompt this week was to write a story that is set in a
hospital. My story is about a doctor who tries to do the right thing.

First, Do No Harm…

What a week this has been. There’s no telling how my weekend
will turn out though. It all began with me being assigned to the hospital’s
research department. I would be reviewing studies that have been done here.
None were currently on-going, but clinical research has always interested me,
and I was grateful to be able to review the records. I was hoping information
would be available showing whether the drugs had received FDA approval, and if
we were utilizing any of them.

Mossville Memorial Hospital is a small institution, but Dr.
Martin Harcourt, Chief of Medical Staff, still contacted pharmaceutical
companies and volunteered to be Principal Investigator on drug trials that would
require a small group of participants. There were usually no more than 50
patients in this hospital on any given day, but their diagnoses and medical
histories varied greatly, so occasionally, clinical trials fit in nicely with
the population.

I was born and raised in Mossville, and Dr. Harcourt had
always taken care of everyone in town. When I was a boy, the closest hospital
had been 75 miles away in Brownfield, and Dr. Harcourt was always talking about
how some of his patients’ lives could have been saved had a hospital been
closer. Through his efforts obtaining state funding and using some of his own
finances, Mossville Memorial was built and became fully operational within a
few short years.

Perhaps we didn’t have all the modern equipment hospitals in
large cities had, but patients could be treated and sent on their way, or if
necessary, stabilized and prepared for the trip to whichever big-city hospital
was appropriate for their emergent situation. Dr. Harcourt’s level of caring was
what being a small town physician was all about, and what inspired me to want
to complete my residency, and open my own private practice, here.

The study files were stored in the basement. I discovered a
box under some pipes that contained a protocol about an investigational drug to
treat respiratory infections, and notes confirming patients had been enrolled,
but no records. I decided to check with Marie Shumbert, an R.N., who had been
working here since the hospital opened. If anything did, or did not, happen at
Mossville Memorial, Marie knew about it.

“That one was a disaster,” Marie said. “Dr. Harcourt worked
on studies by himself, so he would have to give you the details. He enrolled
four people, but before long, one by one, they had a stroke at home that left
them unable to move or speak.

“Dr. Harcourt said it had nothing to do with the study drug.
He said it had helped with their breathing. But, since everyone in the study
had been admitted to the hospital, he couldn’t continue. He told me to box it up
and put it in storage.”

That made no sense. The protocol said it was a Phase I
trial, which is done only to determine safe dosage levels – not treat the
condition. There were no consent documents or patient records. What had he been
doing to these people? Since Marie was loyal to her boss, I decided to tread
lightly.

“Marie, do you remember their names? I’d like to contact
their friends or family to get their current status.”

“I can give you their names, but that’s as far as you can go.
After they were admitted, they all developed an infection no antibiotic could
tackle. They lapsed into coma, their organs failed, and they all died. It was
upsetting that the same thing happened to them all.”

Upsetting? What’s upsetting, Miss Marie, is that no one
questioned Harcourt’s findings. What I found even more disturbing was the
identity of the participants. One was Harcourt’s ex-wife, Jeanine. Even though
they weren’t married at the time, it didn’t seem ethical to enroll her in a
trial he was conducting. The other woman and the two men in the study were hospital
employees. Sally Vanderlin was a Lab Assistant, Jack Sterling, a Pharmacist,
and Thomas Coulter worked in Maintenance. I decided to do a bit more digging about
the strokes and untreatable infections that affected only those four before I
confronted the man about his questionable recruitment practices.

I began with ex-Mrs. Harcourt’s sister, who had lived next
door to the Harcourts, and who was more than willing to speak ill of the dead.

“Jeanine was a whore. She was lucky to be married to a
doctor and what did she do? Fooled around with the Hospital’s Pharmacist. She
told me she didn’t start up with him while she was married, but she was lying,
and I told Dr. H all about it.

“It didn’t take long for her to catch something from that man
she was whoring with. Dr. H left after visiting her on a Tuesday morning, and I
found her that afternoon on her back, staring into space. Same thing happened
to her boyfriend the next day. Within a week, they were both dead. Serves them right.”

I thanked her for her candor and quickly made my exit. Dark
and terrifying puzzle pieces were beginning to fit together all too well. Was
Jack Mrs. Harcourt’s lover? Was it possible the doctor cooked up some killer
bug in the Lab under the guise of research with Sally’s help? If so, why did
she have to die too? How did Thomas fit into all this? Was he cleaning up one
night and saw or overheard something he shouldn’t have? Did the physician I’ve
looked up to all my life make these people ill at home, and then finish them
off in the hospital? I had to get back to those files.

Reading through the protocol of Dr. Harcourt’s ill-fated
drug trial confirmed my suspicions. That’s why there were no consents or
charts. The protocol was phony. Some of the language seemed legitimate, but overall,
it made no sense. It read as if parts of it had been copied from other
protocols he found online. He made up the story about the study in case someone
saw him near his victims’ homes. That was where he administered the drug to
bring on the stroke-like symptoms. I tried not to think of the pain and fear
they must have felt while their bodies were being ravaged by infection and
their organs were unable to continue functioning until mercifully, brain death
occurred, and their self-appointed executioner pulled the plugs.

“My God,” I said. “Harcourt, you monster.”

I felt the needle
stick in the back of my neck. I turned to see Dr. Harcourt standing behind me
holding a syringe, as the room began fading to black.

“Just relax,” he said. “It will all be over soon.”

When I opened my eyes and tried to look around, I couldn’t turn
my head. I knew I was lying down, and judging by all the white that surrounded
me, I knew I was in a room at the hospital.

“The machine is breathing for you,” Dr. Harcourt said. “I’ve
given you a little cocktail I dreamed up that immobilized you, but you will be
able to see, hear, and feel. Too bad you had to be so curious; although, I
always told my students to keep asking until they found the truth. By the way,
the truth is that I did kill them all. I had to. If people in town found out my
wife was having an affair with someone in my
hospital, they would have laughed at me.

“At first, Sally thought we were developing a harmless
sedative, but she figured out the solution was deadly, and threatened to expose
me. I used the same drugs on her that I just gave you, and took her home. I
knew her roommate would find her. Later, the janitor said he saw me inject her
and wanted money to keep quiet. I told him I’d bring the cash to his apartment.
I’m sure you know what I brought instead. My ex and her boyfriend were the
easiest – an at-home visit for my drug study.

“I’m going to inject the virus now, as I did with the four
of them. I’ll be back later with morphine which should ease some of your pain. It
wouldn’t give me pleasure to see you suffer.
Sorry it had to come to this. You had such a bright future ahead of you.”

He emptied the syringe with the deadly virus into the IV line
he’d set up next to my bed. I assumed he left when the deed was done. Why hang
around? The bacteria was capable of killing me all on its own.

So, here we are, right back where we began. I can’t push the
call button or scream. Being the physician of record, Harcourt can write
whatever he wants on my death certificate. Neat and clean. Free and clear. All
I can do now is wait. Wait, and pray for a miracle, or morphine…

About Me

I am a writer, who has had two crime fiction novels, a six-part children's fantasy series. and a poetry collection published by DiskUsPublishing, stories published in various anthologies, as well as flash pieces on various ezines. My current projects include two crime fiction novels.

obit.: Pure Slush, Vol. 6

gorge: Pure Slush, Vol. 4

Notausgang: Emergency Exit, Pure Slush, Vol. 2

The Lost Children Charity Anthology

Inside (currently out of print; seeking new publisher)

An up close and personal look at that crazy carnival ride we call life -- with all its sunlight and shadows. A Poetry Collection

My Crime Thriller (currently out of print; seeking new publisher)

A timid and naive man, dominated personally and professionally by his wife and father-in-law, who is desperate for a friend and confidante of his own, unwittingly allows himself to be drawn into a deadly game of chance by a cunning predator

My Crime Thriller (currently out of print; seeking new publisher)

It's always nice to have a new neighbor settle in - one who is hard-working and proficient at his craft. That is, unless he's a serial killer...

The Favor (Noir Short)

Finders Keepers (Noir Short)

Byline (Crime Fiction Short)

A Gentleman Caller (Crime Short)

My Goodreads

Florida. The sunshine state. A land of oranges, theme parks, and hundreds of miles of beaches. In this land of endless summers and crystal blue water, people are dying in ways the likes of which the local police have never seen. Each dea...

This is a book that anyone and everyone who enjoys a wild ride must read. The characters are beyond unique, the primary setting is beyond imagination and the story? Whoa! This story will snatch you up right from the start and then tw...

This was the first book by this author that I've read, but I intend to look for others. I signed up for his newsletter so I can be notified of new releases.
This story was very dark and super creepy. The characters were presented so c...

Hardly Thrillers
If you are looking for a collection of thrillers, I would recommend looking elsewhere. There are a couple of stories that are very good and are quite disturbing, which I feel thrillers should be. But the majority of t...